Not really.
It’s just a Train song. (I really need to ask Bob to help me with getting the custom “now playing” field back on my posts.)
Though if I actually drank I probably would be blasted right about now. But I don’t. So I’m not. Alas.
Instead I’m sitting here at ungodly o’clock with a mug of tea steaming up my glasses and I’m pretty sure it’s mocking me.
The anxiety pit has been out in force for the past week or so and I can’t pinpoint exactly what’s causing it. It hasn’t been this bad in quite some time so it’s throwing me all out of whack. But I gotta say, I haven’t missed it or its glorious side effect of physically gagging at the mere thought of putting food in my mouth. I’ve lost six pounds because of it. Which I wish I could be happy about, but I feel like absolute shit, and I’ll gain it back as soon as the pit finally clears and I can eat without wanting to hurl all over everything. Bob and I have spent a good chunk of time puzzling this out, trying to pinpoint some sort of trigger, but we’re coming up nil.
I guess that’s why they call it Generalized Anxiety Disorder. Severe anxiety for no discernible reason whatsoever, but you’re ready to start hucking rocks at people.
It both sucks and blows and not in the fun way.
Pat Monahan is helping. (Oh Red Rocks…I wanna go back.)
*ahem*
Anyway.
I’ve been writing things. Not a lot by any means, but a newer take on an old idea with a lot of new…ish parts factored in has currently caught my attention. And I’m not going to argue with several thousand words in less than a week when I’m lucky if I get a handful on any given day. I spent a good chunk of time this weekend talking at to Bob about this project because I was having a difficult time figuring out the conflict between the two main characters—because I really don’t know how to write conflict of any kind—and while he doesn’t know much about writing, he’s gone through a lot of conflict resolution training at work and was able to apply it to my dilemma. Having a husband to indulge my crazy is the greatest thing ever.
My writing tends to follow trends over time and as of late I’ve been putting in a lot more kids. As in, main characters have them. Usually snarky teenagers. It still screws with my head, because we all know how I feel about catching pregnancy, but it doesn’t stop me from writing it. I have a tendency to write about vomit too, and we all know how vomit gives my panic attacks panic attacks.
ANYWAY.
It’s been twenty-some-odd years (give or take) since I was a teenager and I really have no clue how to write them. (I barely knew how to write them when I was one.) Because I’m apparently a relentless glutton for punishment, I’ve found myself reading twitter feeds and tumblr blogs written by teenagers, and then I find myself reevaluating my life from the things I have learned.
1.) The memes. They are endless. And I do not understand the reference to most of them.
2.) Tumblr is beyond my realm of comprehension.
3.) I really would not survive being a teenager in this modern age. I barely survived the 90’s and the assholes I went to school with. If the people I went to school with had, had access to the technology kids have now…oh ye gods it would have been an even bigger nightmare than it was and I didn’t even think that was possible. God speed, Kids. I do not envy you in the least.
4.) Like, can you not?
5.) Reading things written by a fifteen-year-old makes me feel like a creepy old woman. Because I probably am.
No matter how much I want to hug the shit out of them for being so bloody adorable, if I need to research teenage behavior, I should probably stick to the ones I actually know. I’ve got three of them at my disposal. Even if it leads them to [justifiably] believe that Auntie Sara is out of her freaking gourd.
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I’m Drinkin’ Tonight Train |